I stayed in the trenches until the following day, filming scene after scene of our wounded. I learned that nothing more was to be attempted until later, when fresh divisions were to be brought up. Knowing this I decided to leave this section of the trenches. But the ghastly scenes of which I was witness will always remain a hideous nightmare in my memory, though I thank God I had been spared to film such tremendous scenes of supreme heroism and sacrifice in the cause of freedom. I got safely back through the trenches to ----, where Brigade H.Q. told me of an urgent message from G.H.Q. I was to report as soon as possible. On my way I called on General ----, who was delighted to hear I had successfully filmed the attack, the record of which would show the world how gloriously our men had fought. Reaching advanced G.H.Q. I reported myself. All were pleased to see me safe and sound, and to hear of my success. I was told that lively things were happening at La Boisselle. I heard also how successful our troops had been in other parts of the line. Fricourt and Mametz and a dozen other villages had fallen to our victorious troops. This news put new life into me. At La Boisselle they said we had pushed through, and fighting was still going on. I decided to leave for that district right away. Passing through Albert, I halted the car at the top of Becourt Wood. From this point I had to walk. In the distance I could see hundreds of shells bursting, and guns were thundering out. I gave one camera to my orderly and another had the tripod. Taking the second camera myself, I started off. We threaded our way through the wood and out into the trenches. Shells were falling close by, but by hugging the parapet we got along fairly well. The communication trench seemed interminable. "Where the deuce am I?" I asked an officer in passing. "I want to get to our front trenches." "You want to go the other way. This trench leads back to ----." This was anything but cheering news. I had been walking for about an hour, always seeming to just miss the right turning. Truth to tell I had failed to provide myself with a trench map, and it was my first time in this section. The bursting shells were filling up the trenches, and I was becoming absolutely fogged. So, in sheer desperation--for the bombardment was getting more intense and I was afraid of losing pictures--I climbed on to the parapet to look round. What a scene of desolation. The first thing I saw was a dead German. That didn't help to cheer me up overmuch. Making a slight detour I stopped to fix the Hun front line if possible. Our own I could see. But no matter where I looked the Bosche line was apparently non-existent. Yet our shells were smashing into the ground, which seemed to be absolutely empty.